Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
"W-What do you think you're doing?" Ysabel intended to sound tough as she asked this, but her voice came out shamelessly breathless instead. Sei sensa speranze, Ysa! You're hopeless!
Dark eyes glinted down on her, and Ysabel's heart began to pound.
"There's nothing for you to be worried about, signorina. All I wish to do is...apologize."
Yeah right, Ysabel wished she could snarl out. But since that would only be a waste of time, Ysabel tried taking Massimo by surprise instead as she made a sudden move to shove him away. 'Tried' being the operative word, since Massimo's reflexes were far too swift, and the plan completely backfired as she found herself pinned against the wall, her wrists bound over her head.
Questo non va bene! This is not good!
"Let me—-mmph!" Ysabel couldn't say anything else, her brain completely shutting down as Massimo's warm mouth covered hers.
Is this for real?
His tongue stroked past her lips, and fire blazed through her blood.
Real, she realized dazedly. Massimo was truly kissing her, and in the manner that she had forbidden herself to ever dream of.
Aaaah.
Her entire body buckled when Massimo suddenly started sucking on her tongue, and Ysabel was mortified to feel her breasts growing heavy with need. Things were happening too, too fast, but she just couldn't find the strength to push him away, with the way his tongue was wreaking havoc on her senses. And when she felt his other hand slowly trailing up from her stomach, his fingers brushing against the underside of her swollen flesh—-
Knock, knock, knock.
"I know you're in there, Massimo."
Ysabel could only stare in bemusement when Massimo suddenly sprang away from her, and she wondered dizzily if her face also displayed the same telltale flush that was now darkening Massimo's high-boned cheeks.
"I will give you ten seconds to ensure both of you are decent—-"
Ysabel had a hard time focusing on what the person on the other side of the door was saying, and her fingers shook as she touched her own lips. How was it possible that her first kiss was from Massimo? How?
"And then you will kindly open this door—-"
Ysabel finally had the presence of mind to realize the woman outside the door was still speaking, and the voice sounded weirdly familiar.
"Present your fidanzata to your grandmother—-"
Comprehension dawned, and Ysabel let out a gasp. La Strega?!
"And after which us two women will have somewhere to go."
Four
TROPPE VELOCE. Everything was happening too, too fast again, and in what seemed like a mere snap of La Strega's fingers, Ysabel found herself inside another vehicle, but face to face this time with Boston's ruling queen.
Khaleesi.
The girl seated next to La Strega suddenly coughed, and hers was a familiar face. The world in which famiglie operated was small; everyone knew everyone, and if Ysabel wasn't mistaken, the younger woman's name was Cattleya, and she had been working for the Marchetti family since her teenage years.
"Mi dispiace." Cattleya's voice was almost ethereal in its calmness, which was just to be expected from someone working for the likes of La Strega, who was also known for displaying nerves of steel even under the most dangerous circumstances.
The thought had Ysabel stealing another look at Massimo's grandmother, and it was a genuine struggle not to appear starstruck in her presence.
The older woman was a picture of refinement with her coiffed silver hair and a string of pearls around her neck. If rumors were to be believed, those shiny expensive orbs were harvested from the same company that designed the pearl-handled revolver La Strega had used to kill those who had murdered her husband and only son.
"May I call you Ysabel, signorina?"
Ysabel's back shot ramrod straight at suddenly being spoken to by Massimo's grandmother, and she ended up half-stammering in her nervousness. "Sì, La Strega—-" Horror ate her alive when she realized what she had slipped. "Mi sculto molto, signora! Chiedo perdono!" I'm so sorry, please forgive me!
Why did her mouth keep getting her into trouble? How could she be so stupid and careless as to call Boston's queen a witch to her face, which was what 'strega' translated to in English?
Ysabel was ready to be punished on the spot, but the older woman merely cackled while her companion only shook her head.
"Signora Marchetti actually takes pride in being called La Strega, so please do not worry about it, signorina."
Ysabel could only smile weakly, not knowing exactly how to respond. On one hand, it was nice to know that she had not inadvertently insulted Massimo's grandmother. But on the other hand, finding out that La Strega took pride in being called a 'witch' only made her more formidable in Ysabel's eyes...and just as with most famiglia business, she wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing or not.
"My assistant speaks the truth, Ysabel. I am not easily offended if that's what you are worried about." The older woman's gaze then turned cunning. "But perhaps I'm wrong, and you are worried about something else? Maybe you are wondering why I chose you over your sister?"